Avengers Assembled
by Ultrawoman
Summary: A collection of 17 unrelated one-shots, originally written for challenges, exchanges, prompts, etc. over at Livejournal and Dreamwidth, re-posted here for those that have not seen them. Various lengths, ratings, characters/pairings, and genres. Originally written 2013-2019.
1. Coffee Breaking (Ensemble)

**Title:** Coffee Breaking  
**Rating**: PG/K+  
**Originally posted**: July 2013  
**Originally written for**: a challenge at Avland on Livejournal  
**Characters/Pairings**: Steve, Tony, Bruce, Darcy, Clint, Nat, Thor (mentions Bruce/Darcy, Nat/Clint)  
**Notes**: Coffee Shop AU

The usual patrons of the coffee-shop erupted in applause as newest waiter, Tony Stark, dropped a tray full of mugs... again! It wasn't his fault, he just wasn't used to this kind of 'manual labour' as he termed it. When the rich guy ran out on his wedding, his family cut him off. Now working here was all he could do to make rent, and even then it was only because old friend, Steve Rogers, was doing him a favour on the rates.

"One day, you will get the hang of this," Darcy assured her work-mate as she helped him clean up.

"Yes, the day I will be a coffee serving proficient, is the day Barton gets that girl to even look at him," he joked, reaching over the back of the couch to bat his buddy Clint in the head.

"Hey! She looks at me!" he argued, eyes returning to the red-head across the coffee-shop who seemed to only have eyes for the guy she was with. "Just, y'know, not much."

"She's not the only girl in the world," said Bruce from behind his book, somehow managing to pick up his coffee from the table and take a drink without his eyes ever leaving the page.

"Said practically married guy," Tony smirked, even as Darcy walked by Bruce's chair and dropped a kiss on his cheek on the way.

"Hey, everybody," said Steve as he walked in then, gesturing to Darcy who immediately reached for a cup to make his usual. "What's going on?" he asked his friends as he dropped onto the couch next to Clint.

"The usual," Tony told him. "Barton is staring at red hot and unobtainable; Banner hasn't stepped outside of a book in an hour, and yours truly just knocked another five dollars off the four I earned so far today."

Steve winced at all of that, and then more so at a crash from the kitchen.

"Well, however much pay you lose on breakages, it could be worse," he said then, peering over the back of the couch at Tony. "You could be as harsh with the cups as Thor," he grinned, as Darcy handed him his usual latte.

"He's doing his best," she insisted, opening her mouth again to say more when suddenly a loud crack of a different kind was heard.

All eyes turned to see the beautiful red-head named Natasha, who Clint fawned over on an almost daily basis, stalking away from the boyfriend she had just slapped so hard his face was already red as a stop sign.

"Oh, yes!" Clint exclaimed, vaulting over the back of the couch. "She's gonna need a shoulder to cry on. These babies are available!" he said as he flexed, then ran out the door.

His friends all shared concerned looks, but in the end, nobody could help but laugh. It was just another day at Fury's Java House, and they wouldn't have it any other way.


	2. Shotgun Wedding (DarcyBruce)

**Title**: Shotgun Wedding  
**Rating**: PG-13/T  
**Originally posted**: July 2013  
**Originally written for**: a challenge at Avland on Livejournal  
**Characters/Pairings**: Bruce/Darcy, Tony, The Avengers  
**Notes**: AU post-Battle of New York

It was supposed to have been their wedding day. The last place Darcy Lewis expected to spend it was in the hospital. This was distinctly not in those daydreams she had as a child. Maybe she had never been a traditional girl, but even Darcy had plans for her wedding. She supposed it was just normal to want a big white dress, a hundred guests, flowers and balloons. Of course, this was long before she fell in love with a superhero.

Letting a guy like him into her life, it had its complications, but he got into her heart so easily. There was just no way Darcy could help but allow him to become all she wanted and needed. It wasn't as if she didn't have all the information from the start. Being as close as she was to the Avengers initiative these days, Darcy was privy to secrets few would ever guess. She was well aware that loving Bruce Banner meant dealing with The Other Guy too, and she never really worried about it.

Maybe that wasn't strictly true. Obviously the thought crossed her mind that being close to a man with such an extraordinary alter-ego would have its downsides. Still, she worked past her worries. She just had to be with the guy.

Bruce was pretty romantic when you got past the shyness. He could do candy and flowers as good as anybody, but Darcy knew he feared becoming too attached to her. His worries were for her safety, but also for her future. It was no life being tied to a guy with his issues, as he put it. She just shrugged her shoulders, told him every guy she ever dated had issues. Maybe not the same kind he had, but it was all relative. She loved him, and he was a dope if he didn't realise it. She proved it on the leap year when she asked him to be her husband.

Now here was their big day, and everything had gone pretty crappy. One minute they were saying 'I do' and sharing a kiss, the next someone started to fire from above. Steve yelled for everyone to take cover, as he and Tony sprang into action, with the team immediately falling in behind. Bruce grabbed Darcy's hand, pulling her to safety. Neither of them noticed that a stray bullet had ricocheted and struck her.

"Damn!" she had cursed as she spotted an ever-growing red patch on her ivory gown.

That was when the switch flipped in Bruce's brain. The Other Guy burst forth, yelled obscenities becoming a roar. He leapt up at the snipers above them, and Darcy passed out. She remembered nothing from that moment until this, coming to in a hospital bed with an ache in her thigh and an IV in her arm. Some wedding day this had turned out to be.

"Hey," her husband's voice said, as he gently grasped her hand. "How're you feeling?"

"Pissed off," she replied. "We should be feeding each other cake and listening to Tony sing bad karaoke right about now," she noted, taking in how dark it was outside. "I had plans for tonight too," she said with a look that almost caused the good doctor to blush.

"We'll get to all those plans, I promise," Bruce assured her. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"I'm guessing the butt-plugs that ruined our big day were after all of you guys, huh?" his new wife checked, knowing she was right from the way Bruce couldn't meet her eyes, proving he felt stupidly guilty. "Hey, it's okay," she assured him, making him look at her. "I knew what I was getting into when we started this whole thing. Just so long as the ass that put the hole in me is..."

"He is. They all are," Bruce told her, almost too seriously.

"Good," she nodded. "Then this Mrs Banner is just fine," she promised with a genuine smile.

"Ah, the happy couple," said Tony as he strolled into the room then, shattering any potentially romantic moment. "I ran into a very amiable nurse in the hall," he started to explain, "She said, given the circumstances, we could bend the limited visitor rules on this occasion," he waggled his eyebrows, then let out a whistle.

The Avengers team came piling into the room then, laden down with buffet snacks from biscuits to sandwiches, plus a whole stack of gifts too.

A wedding reception in a hospital room was not something Darcy ever expected, and Bruce looked just about as shocked as she felt. Still, theirs was never going to be a conventional marriage, they were both very aware of that, and they wouldn't have things any other way.


	3. Loose Lips Sink Ships (Ensemble, Crack)

**Title**: Loose Lips Sink Ships  
**Rating**: PG-13/T  
**Originally posted**: August 2013  
**Originally written for**: a challenge at Avland on Livejournal  
**Characters/Pairings**: Thor, Darcy, Bruce, Steve, Tony, Clint, Nat (mentions Nat/Clint, Steve/Tony)  
**Notes**: Crack!fic, The Avengers discover fanfiction

When Darcy walked in to find Thor with Mjolnir raised over his head, ready to take out a defenceless laptop, she knew something was wrong.

"Woah, big guy!" she said, hands raised in surrender, just in case the hammer decided to come her way instead. "What's up?"

"My brother's evilness is at work again, I am certain of it!" the so-called demi-god declared. "How else do you explain this?!" he asked too loudly.

"Um, okay..."

Darcy edged around the table, gesturing for Thor to drop the weapon already. She was a little startled to find that her buddy from the sky was looking at a website that was mostly for fanfiction from what she could tell. How that could've led him to think Loki was causing trouble again, Darcy had no idea.

"So what's the big... deal?" she asked, suddenly realising the answer to her question before she really finished asking it.

"These slanderous lies and tales being told!" Thor yelled too loudly near her ear.

"There's slander now?" asked Clint as he wandered in with Natasha, the two of them sweaty and carrying towels - Darcy guessed there had been some kind of working out sparring thing going on.

"No, there's fanfiction," she grinned, unable to help herself. "Thor got a little upset, but honestly, dude, it's fine," she assured him. "This is what happens when you get famous. Your fans wanna write their own adventures, either about you or with you..."

"And we're supposed to be okay with this?" asked Natasha, one eyebrow raised.

"Not sure you can really stop it," Darcy shrugged. "Although, you guys really don't have that much to worry about anyway. The major ship seems to be Tony and Steve," she giggled as she scrolled down the page some more.

"Ship?" Thor echoed. "Who is sailing this boat? I shall sink it before..."

"Down boy!" urged Darcy, complete with placating gestures once again. "Ship is Internet slang, short for relationship. Means a lot of these crazy little bunnies have fantasies about old Iron Balls and 4th of July gettin' busy. Y'know, making the beast of two backs?" she tried again when Thor looked blank.

"Having sex, man!" said Clint, just to put the poor guy out of his misery.

"Wow. I really know how to walk in at the interesting moments," said Bruce as he came through the door. "Um, I would ask if you were having a meeting I don't know about but..."

"Kind of an impromptu gathering," shrugged Darcy, moving over on the couch and encouraging him to come sit down. "Come see what he found, Doc. It'll make your head explode."

"So long as you don't mean that literally, or in a green way," he said pointedly at which Darcy rolled her eyes. "Wow," he gasped as he read the latest page Darcy had clicked on. "Do they know...?" he asked, glancing up briefly at Clint and Natasha.

Immediately the two agents grabbed up the laptop and began reading. Darcy would swear she heard the Widow ask Arrow Boy if there might be cameras in the work-out room, but mostly she was being distracted by a lot of crashing around from the adjoining room. There seemed to be some silent dispute over whether they should all investigate or not. Eventually it was Bruce that took the initiative and walked over to the door, carefully prising it open. Even he wasn't quite ready for the sight that met his eyes.

"What's happening with...? Oh my God!" Darcy's question fast turned into a gasp of surprise and a terrible urge to giggle as she arrived at Bruce's side a second later.

There stood Tony, half in, half out of his Iron Man garb, with a can of whipped cream in his hand, looking momentarily stunned. Meanwhile, Steve was stood on the bed in some kind of action-ready pose, wearing nothing but very tight and shiny red, white, and blue underwear, and his Captain America cowl/mask.

"Bruce, Darcy," said Tony eventually, the usual easy smile coming to his lips. "We were just..."

"If I beg, will you please not finish that sentence?" asked his fellow scientist, as Darcy bit so hard on her lip that it almost bled.

A couple of seconds more and Bruce was closing the door on the whole spectacle, wishing the picture from his mind with all the might he had in him. Darcy let out the laughter that she'd held onto too long and leaned on the Hulk's alter-ego for support as her legs threatened to give way.

"Nope," she forced out through fits of giggles. "No slander on that website!"

Thor could only stare, feeling more confused than ever. Midgard was that much more strange than he ever thought... and he still didn't understand what any of this had to do with boats!


	4. Coffee, Tea, or Me? (SteveOC)

**Title**: Coffee, Tea, or Me?  
**Rating**: PG/K+  
**Originally posted**: September 2013  
**Originally written for**: a challenge at Avland on Livejournal  
**Characters/Pairings**: Steve/OFC, Tony, The Avengers  
**Notes**: none

Apparently, the girl at the coffee shop liked him. Steve Rogers hadn't been so sure about that, until the day she literally came out and told him.

Tony liked his coffee, so did Pepper. Bruce could never be coerced and they all understood why, but the other members of the team (who were now all living at Stark Tower) happily put in their order each morning. Steve offered to go because he enjoyed the walk down to the shop on the corner, the simple and easy interaction with the baristas. Of course it had been a whole new world that first day. In Steve's time, coffee was just coffee. Your choices were limited to black or white, with or without sugar, and that was that. Now there was Espresso Macchiato, Caffe Mocha, and Iced Skinny Latte. Drinks with ice, cream, or sprinkles, he had never seen such things in his life. When asked for his own order, Steve hadn't a clue what to say and dumbly picked the first thing off the list - it didn't taste that great.

Each day that followed, he followed a methodical pattern, ordering the next item down on the menu. It was almost two weeks after his first visit that Sarah, the barista that seemed to serve him most days, realised what he was doing. When he opened his mouth to give his order, she rattled off his teams usual preferences for him.

"And..." she said, turning away just a moment to count seven items down from the top of the board, "one Caramel Macchiato for you. Am I right?"

"Yes," he nodded once, and smiled that charming genuine smile that made many a young woman swoon. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Sarah smiled on back before moving away to prepare his order.

Steve watched her work. She was quite pretty, though he really hadn't noticed before. He guessed he hadn't really looked.

"Here we go," she said at last, putting all the drinks into the cardboard carrier for him.

Steve handed the money over without ever asking how much, since he knew what it ought to be. He tried to tip her a dollar, but she refused, making him frown.

"I can't take your money, not if you're gonna ask me out. That'd be a little too iPretty Woman/i," she told him, trying not to blush as she handed the coin back to him. "I mean, you were gonna ask, right?"

The next morning when the team started giving him their coffee orders, Steve shook his head.

"You guys are on your own today," he told them, turning to walk away.

"You're not going to the coffee shop?" Nat frowned, wondering who the sudden change of routine, why the overly wide smile.

"No, I am," he replied, looking back at her.

"Oooh, Captain Smurf Tights has himself a coffee date!" Tony grinned too widely.

Steve didn't answer that, though his lack of response was all anyone needed to know Stark was right. Honestly, they couldn't be mad about Rogers leaving them decaffeinated. After all, one day without coffee was bearable, but almost seventy years without any action? His need was far greater!


	5. Missing You (SteveThor)

**Title**: Missing You  
**Rating**: PG-13/T  
**Originally posted**: December 2014  
**Originally written for**: basched, based on her prompt  
**Characters/Pairings**: Steve/Thor  
**Notes**: Christmas fic, AU post-Battle of New York

Steve couldn't remember ever feeling like this before. It was different to the last time he had a best friend, and he couldn't really have explained why. Bucky was like a brother to Steve, they grew up together, had each other's backs, at least until the end. Remembering the sight of Sergeant James Barnes plummeting to his death still tore at Steve's heart, vivid in his mind as if it were yesterday, even though decades had passed. There was a new world to face now, to protect, to avenge, and so he had. Steve Rogers put on his Captain America stars and stripes and stepped out into the fray, taking on whatever missions were given to him. He fought with his brothers in arms, The Avengers, and he fought with S.H.I.E.L.D. agents at his side too. His work was his life because there was nothing and no-one else left, everyone he had ever known were either decades older than he or long dead. Perhaps it wasn't so curious then, that the one he missed most was even older than Steve himself, having lived many centuries already.

Thor was such an anomaly, as all The Avengers were in there different ways, but Steve looked at Thor and saw a best friend, not a replacement for Bucky, not a substitute by any means, but a best friend none the less, perhaps even something more than that, though he couldn't have given it a name.

They were fellow soldiers, both out of their comfort zone, out of their own time and in a world they could not entirely understand. It had caused a bond between them, something unshakeable, unbreakable. Perhaps it was not so very strange then that when Thor was gone, Steve missed him terribly.

Perhaps it would not have been so bad if he had other things to occupy his mind. Out on missions, concentrating on tactics, staying alive, keeping others safe, Steve was okay then. It was the time alone that got to him, that reminded him how very alone in the world he was these days.

Fury insisted he deserved a break, a little R&R as the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. had called it. Christmas time in the city, Steve couldn't deny it all looked beautiful, with the pretty coloured lights and store windows all cheerily decorated. Walking amongst the crowds of happy faces and laughing children was hard though. Christmas was necessary, a celebration Steve believed in, but it wasn't fun and joyful for those that walked alone.

From what he understood, Tony and Pepper were having Christmas together at Stark Tower, and Bruce, who lived there still, was joining them. They had told Steve he was welcome, but he politely declined, feeling he would be intruding. Besides, as much as he and Tony could get along when they had to, one too many mistimed supposedly harmless jibes on Stark's part would only make Steve feel worse right now.

As for his fellow soldiers, Romanoff and Barton were currently off the grid, whether together or apart, Steve wasn't certain, though he suspected together. There was more to those two than met the eye, he was sure on that. He actually kind of hoped they were together. Being the lonely soldier, it was a tough life.

Thor would understand, that was what got to Steve the most. If he were here he would completely get where Steve was coming from. They walked through worlds that were far beyond their understanding, though they were older than any man should really be. Steve had started out a mortal human, which sometimes he thought was worse. At least an Asgardian expected to live as long as Thor had and probably would yet, but when he tried to fit in on Earth, or Midgard as he called it, he found himself too strong, too old, too much. Steve knew how that felt. They had so many similarities, greatness thrust upon them that they appreciated and yet would like to perhaps live just a little while as normal men, being who they wanted to be, just themselves.

Thor was out of reach right now. Steve wasn't sure if he had gone back to Asgard or was just elsewhere in the world. Either way he was gone, and Steve was alone on a cold Christmas Day in New York.

Dinner for one was cooking in the kitchen, and the one gift he had thought to give was carefully wrapped and under the tree, but it seemed it would not get to its giftee today. They might've spent the day together, somehow Steve had just kind of expected they would, and yet he was alone, and Thor could be anywhere. Perhaps he was a fool to think of the other man so fondly, to expect such feelings to be reciprocated. It was probably too much to ask.

Shaking his head, Steve headed into the kitchen to check on his food. He flipped on the radio for the sake of background noise and iFairytale of New York/i was just starting. Steve frowned a little at the durge like sound and the dreary lyrics. It really wasn't helping his mood and he was about to turn it off again when a knock at the door startled him, and he turned warily towards the sound. Though he lived in a regular apartment in a fairly normal block on an average looking street, Steve Rogers still had a face that people recognised, and an identity that could be tracked. He edged towards the door, battle-ready as ever, and got a hell of a surprise when he opened it and found a familiar face on the other side.

Dressed in civilian clothes but wearing an unmistakable broad smile was Thor.

"Greetings, Rogers," he said, stepping forward to hug his friend and comrade.

"You're here," said Steve pointlessly even as he returned the manly embrace. "I was just... Doesn't matter." He shook off what he was going to say as they faced each other again.

There was no way Thor was here through sheer will of Steve alone, though it sure did seem like it. Steve did not believe Thor was a god, that went against everything he had always held to be true. There was only one God, and on Christmas of all days, he would like to think the Lord was listening particularly carefully and felt that the man who fought as Captain America, for God and country, deserved a friend, at least for today.

"Though this world's holidays and celebrations hold little meaning to an Asgardian such as myself," Thor was explaining as he wandered further into the apartment. "I do understand it is a time for family, for friends and loved ones. Of all those who I might call upon this night, it was Steve Rogers whose name first struck my mind. Am I welcome, Captain?" He smiled slightly.

Steve grinned, unable to help it. "More than welcome," he assured him, gesturing that his friend should take a seat. "Uh, I do have food cooking. Not much, I was expecting to be alone, but we can still share."

"You are a good man, Rogers, this much I have always known to be true," said Thor happily.

Steve went back to the kitchen to finish checking on the dinner. There was always going to be leftovers if it were just him eating alone, but now not so much, now he had someone to share with, and it felt good. He faltered as he turned back to the living room and eyed the small tree in the corner. Weighing up options in his mind, he eventually strode over and pulled out the present he had bought for Thor. He felt like a stupid kid when he walked over to the couch on which Thor was now sat and held out the carefully wrapped gift to him. The Asgardian eyed the prettily wrapped parcel with confusion. Steve cleared his throat and shifted all the more awkwardly, forcing the box into Thor's hands.

"It's a tradition for Christmas, to buy gifts for those we love... Our friends and family," Steve corrected himself, coughing to cover what he might have implied. "Uh, It's nothing special but it was bought with you in mind."

"And I am an ass for not knowing of this tradition," said Thor awkwardly, even as he took the gift into his hands. "I have nothing for you."

"You're here," said Steve with a smile as he sat down next to him. "That's enough."

Thor returned the look and knew he meant every word; he was doubly glad he had come here now, he had missed Steve so much.


	6. Believing in Magic (PeggySteve, Angst)

**Title**: Believing in Magic  
**Rating**: PG/K+  
**Originally posted**: August 2015  
**Originally written for**: a challenge at Avland on Livejournal  
**Characters/Pairings**: Peggy Carter (mentions Peggy/Steve).  
**Notes**: Set after Captain America: The First Avenger. Angst warning.

Only children truly believed in magic.

It was easy when you were young and innocent. A child's view of the world was very simple; right and wrong, black and white. The good guys always prospered and bad people were appropriately punished. Everything always worked itself out to a happily ever after in the end, tears dried, wounds patched, no problem. Magic cured every ill and soothed every hurt. There was no such thing as heartbreak, not when the end of the story came.

Perhaps the problem was that it was the beginning that had hurt Peggy rather than the end. They were just starting out in a lot of ways, hadn't even had their first date yet. That wasn't how fairytales worked. She was at least supposed to have had all the good times, all the fun. The slow dances, trips to the movies, kissing in the dark where nobody could see. Peggy wasn't sure if it would be harder or easier to accept her lack of happy ending if she'd had all of that first. Now she never would know.

Steve was gone, and there was nothing in the world that could bring him back to her. Agent Carter moved on, pulled herself up by the boot-straps, stiff upper lip and all that. She would go on in her work for the S.S.R., be the best agent she could be, make everybody proud. That didn't mean she felt nothing, that her heart wasn't breaking every moment. Her happy ending went down with the ship that crash landed, taking her fairytale prince with it. There was no way to fix it, to make it all better. This was just the way life had to be now, all by herself.

Peggy wished she still believed in magic, but she couldn't.


	7. Once Upon A Time in Budapest (NatClint)

**Title**: Once Upon A Time in Budapest  
**Rating**: PG-13/T  
**Originally posted**: August 2015  
**Originally written for**: a challenge at Avland on Livejournal  
**Characters/Pairings**: Nat/Clint  
**Notes**: Fairytale/Historical AU.

When they met in the club, she thought he was just a weirdo out to do her harm. Nothing could have been further from the truth. He said he came to help her, when in truth he really had meant to help himself. Funny how things had worked out in the end, Natasha thought, wondering at the fact she was still thinking of herself by that name, even now.

Stood before the mirror in a long flowing ball gown and tiara, she barely recognised herself, and yet at the same time, this was oddly familiar. Her life from eight years old had been a series of misfortunes; an orphanage and foster homes, followed by a string of unfavourable jobs and petty thievery that took her across borders when she became of age. At twenty one, Nat had believed she would never rise above anything better than a waitress and a dancer in some filthy Romanian dive, living in an apartment that was nothing more than a broom closet. Then one day, he appeared.

"I know who you are," he had said, making her smile.

"That's a clever trick," she told him smoothly. "Because I don't."

She had met better looking men in her time, probably more than she should have at her age, but there was something about Clint Barton that made her pay attention. He certainly seemed intent on pursuing her, and not for the usual reasons guys gave chase with Nat. He said she wasn't all she seemed, that he could see beyond her skimpy outfit and the pain in her eyes. She was destined for more than that place, she was born to more.

Now here was the proof. After two weeks spent learning a history she hadn't entirely believed at first, travelling miles and miles to France, every turn seemingly fraught with danger, finally they had arrived in Paris. The Dowager Empress had met with the red-headed girl in the fancy store-bought dress, and in a moment both she and Nat knew they had found family.

"This is the real me."

The words were but a whisper from the lips of Princess Natalia Romanov, Grand Duchess of Russia, as she took in her own form in the glass now. All that she had been through, and this was where she belonged. The idea made her smile and shed a tear at the same time.

"My dear?" called her grandmother, tapping on the door before entering. "Natalia, it is time for us to go down to the party. Are you quite ready?"

Nat swallowed hard, glanced from the Dowager Empress to her reflection one more time. Slowly, she shook her head.

"I don't..." she tried to speak but found it impossible. "All that I've been through and I never seemed to have any fear. Not of being poor, being hungry. Not of men or monsters. Now I have to face that room full of people, and I know I can do it, I just... I'd feel better if..."

She couldn't bring herself to say the words, already knowing it was ridiculous. Two weeks of semi-friendship, that's all they really had between them, and in the end, she knew it had been all about the money for Barton. Her grandmother's hand at her cheek got Nat's attention.

"My darling girl, he didn't take the money," she told her with a smile. "But it took all of my persuasive skills to get him here tonight."

Nat's eyes widened with surprise and delight as the Dowager Empress called to whomever was hovering outside the bedroom door, then it opened and there he was.

Without a moment's pause, Nat ran across the room, throwing herself into Clint's open arms. They hugged each other so tightly, it was amazing they didn't crack ribs, and yet neither could feel any pain at all.

When she moved to kiss him, he knew it didn't matter if he were prince or pauper. He had Nat's heart and that made him the richest of men. Together they were bound to live happily ever after, because this was their fairytale ending, and there was no other choice in the matter.


	8. The Science of Love (Tony & Bruce)

**Title**: The Science of Love  
**Rating**: PG/K+  
**Originally posted**: August 2015  
**Originally written for**: a challenge at Avland on Livejournal  
**Characters/Pairings**: Tony & Bruce (mentions Pepper/Tony, Bruce/Darcy)  
**Notes**: Ties into _Avengers in Babysitting_ & _Can't Fight the Feeling (_both available on AO3) but can be read as a standalone.

"It'd be easier, wouldn't it?" said Tony as he stepped into the lab. "If everything could be figured out in the math. If there was a scientific explanation for all of this wacky stuff we go through?"

Bruce didn't answer at first. He just stood staring at the screens in front of him as if he hadn't even heard what was said to him. Just when Tony was about to repeat himself, the good doctor reacted with a sigh.

"There used to be once," he said, pulling off his glasses. "I believed there was nothing science couldn't explain, given enough time and resource. We could unlock the secrets of space, discover micro-particles, cure all diseases, end wars..."

He shook his head then, voice trailing away to nothing. Still his eyes scanned the glass-like screen before him, confused beyond measure more by what he couldn't see there than what he could. Bruce flinched only when the screen was pushed roughly aside, and there was nothing else to do but face Tony head on.

"It's been a while since it was real easy to hide behind the test tubes and equations, doc," he reminded him. "Demi-gods, super soldiers, alien armies," he listed too easily.

Bruce smiled at that.

"Those I have some explanation for at least. Asgard has advanced alien technology. The Captain was injected with a serum. Even wormholes in space can be explained with high level math and physics," he assured his friend. "This is more than that. This is the question that's plagued mankind from the beginning."

"Yeah." Tony sighed. "Never expected it to happen to me though."

"Ha!" Bruce reacted with genuine humour. "iYou're/i surprised? Imagine how I feel. You may have been an asshole in the past, Tony, but that's not a trait that's impossible to love, and Pepper is a special woman."

"I'll agree with that. All of it, actually." His friend smiled. "But Darcy is special too. C'mon, a political science major who took on a man that fell from the sky with a taser? That's not your every day kind of gal."

"Agreed." Bruce nodded, a smile playing at his lips that he couldn't help. "You think anybody is ever supposed to understand the science of love, Tony?"

"See, that's where you're going wrong, big guy," his friend told him, slapping him on the back as he turned Bruce towards the door of the lab. "Love is not a science. It's a disease with no known cure. There is however a way to help ease the symptoms in times of trouble."

"Which is?" asked Bruce as they headed for the door, Tony's arm around his shoulders.

"There's this little thing called tequila..."


	9. Love Is For Children (SteveNat)

**Title**: Love Is For Children  
**Rating**: PG-13/T  
**Originally posted**: November 2015  
**Originally written for**: flipflopdiva, based on her prompt, for Avland on Livejournal  
**Characters/Pairings**: Steve/Nat  
**Notes**: none

He woke up in the night and found her gone. Somehow, Steve wasn't at all surprised by her absence. What threw him more was the realisation that though she had left his bed, she had yet to disappear altogether. The figure by the window could be no-one else. Steve had learnt her figure and form almost as well as his own these past months, and never more than tonight in his bed.

Natasha Romanoff was like no other woman he ever met. She was amazing in more ways than he could ever name. For weeks now, he had felt something developing between them, something more than the friendship that had come so naturally to him and so awkwardly to her. People like Nat didn't have relationships, as such. Though she was close enough to Barton, that seemed like more of a life debt than a friendship much of the time. It was Steve she seemed closest too, though he himself had denied it a long time, sure he must be wrong. Tonight proved differently, at least he assumed so. Perhaps he had been wrong.

"Natasha?" he called softly into the dark.

Her silhouette flinched at the sound, which surprised him. She had to know he was there and awake. Nat was a professional, she would have noticed the change in his breathing and the stirring of the covers, no matter how slight, long before he ever spoke to her.

The real shock was that the slight movement of surprise was all the response Steve got from her. Not a word, not a hurried exit. He rose from the bed and came over to the window where the pale moonlight lit them both just slightly. With her face to the glass, Steve couldn't read Nat's expression. Even now, he wondered if he would be able to in broad daylight and face-to-face.

"Nat..."

"Don't." She snatched her arm away when his fingers circled her wrist. "Just, don't. Please?"

Her voice was soft but sharp at the same time as she folded her arms across her chest defensively. She was dressed in nothing but her underwear. Still, Steve knew better than to think it was her mostly naked state that was making her feel so jumpy, so out of sorts. Long before they had taken to bed together, he had seen her much less than fully clothed on multiple occasions. Natasha was not afraid to show her body. She was not afraid of anything as far as Steve could tell, not until this moment.

"I'm sorry." He sighed in the semi-dark, pushing his hair back off his forehead in some nervous gesture he couldn't help. "I didn't... Clearly, I did something wrong."

"You didn't," she assured him, though her eyes were fixed on the view outside and there was a shake in her voice that Steve was sure he never heard from her before. "I'm not a frightened virgin, Captain. You can't scare me or hurt me, at least, not how you meant it," she told him, finally sparing him the briefest of glances.

If Steve didn't know any better he would swear she had been crying, but that would be crazy. Nat wasn't the type to cry. Most would say she didn't even feel. Steve knew better than that, but he still hadn't been ready for this change in her behaviour. After what they shared, he half expected them to grow closer, if that were possible. Certainly, he had not expected her to revert to the cold hard steel of the Agent Romanoff he first met before the Battle of New York. It hurt, more than he was comfortable with. It was enough to make him angry with her attitude.

"Natasha," he called for her attention one more time, hands on his hips purely to stop him from daring to touch her again. "I don't know what's going on here. Maybe I'm an idiot for thinking that last night actually meant something to you-"

"But it did," she cut in, so suddenly that Steve physically jumped at the sound of her voice. "It did," she repeated, turning to look up at him. "I never expected..." She shook her head, swallowed hard, tried to get her bearings. "Love is for children. I've said it before, I meant it, at least I thought I did. My life became such that it was easier to harden myself. Necessary for the job, you know this. I know this. A physical release of passion is all well and good, but I don't feel, I can't... I can't afford to feel," she said, voice cracking all over again.

Nat bit her lip and looked away. Steve wished he knew what to say to her. It wasn't that Natasha regretted what had happened here, that she felt nothing for Steve at all. The truth seemed to be that she felt too much, and that frightened her. The hard-hearted, ruthless special agent, that had wreaked havoc and death across the globe, could be vulnerable. Here in this room, in the presence of Steve himself, she had bent and broken somehow, she had felt something undeniable, and she was terrified.

"It's a big deal for me too," he assured her, unsure if it would help at all but trying anyway. "Y'know for a guy who's lived ninety years, I haven't exactly had a lot of... bedroom experience," he said awkwardly.

Nat smiled slightly but still couldn't look at him. "You did just fine," she promised, making Steve smile too.

"That's because I was with you," he told her, daring now to reach out and touch her, his hand at her cheek, turning her face until their eyes met again. "Natasha, I only ever expected to fall in love once. My life altered so much and... Well, you know the story, more of it than anybody else after all the tales I've told you and only you," he reminded her. "You know me. You know I would never have let this all happen if I wasn't sure about you, about us. I'm sorry if that scares you, but honestly? It scares me too, in the best way." He smiled, hands sliding to her shoulders and pulling her a little closer. "Love can be for everyone. Even people like us."

Nat nodded slowly, still seemingly uncertain but determined now that this was a moment she could not lose, this was a man she needed to hang on to. Maybe she was a fool for letting even one corner of her heart be under the control of another, but by and by, she had come to realise she couldn't help it. No safer hands existed than those of the great Captain America, except perhaps for Steve Rogers, the man behind the shield. If anyone could be trusted with the heart of Natasha Romanoff, she would have to say it was him. They sealed their agreement with a kiss, and the fear almost immediately began to fade.


	10. The Lure of Humanity (LokiOC)

**Title**: The Lure of Humanity  
**Rating**: PG-13/T  
**Originally posted**: May 2016  
**Originally written for**: a challenge at Avland on Livejournal  
**Characters/Pairings**: Loki/OC  
**Notes**: Ties into _Avengers in Babysitting_ & _Can't Fight the Feeling_ (both available on AO3), but can be read as a standalone.

So this was Midgard.

Loki had not thought to venture here, not until his brother had been banished to the place. Of all the worlds that they might have travelled to, this was perhaps the least thrilling to Loki of Asgard. He saw little to excite the mind or body of such beings as himself. Mere mortals that lived a hundred years at most, if research were to be believed. They went about their largely boring lives without style or grandeur, without affecting any real change on their own world, never mind that of other realms. It was a great disappointment to Loki at first glance, and yet Thor was intoxicated by it's wonders. His brother could not understand at all.

Walking in a land they called the United States of America, this region was known as New Mexico. Loki wondered what may have become of the previous Mexico. If this were the second incarnation of such a place, he could see no vast improvements. Much was wasted space, acres and acres of blowing sands in a heat that must be unbearable to the people who crawled like ants on the surface. It was a sad little place as far as Loki could tell.

Thor had become tied to the people here, to a woman in particular. They took a similar form to female Asgardians, though they lacked the power and much of the beauty as far as Loki was able to tell. He wandered through nearby towns, all at no great distance from the site where he had discovered his brother, locked up and helpless. Thor would not be so for long, and Loki planned to discover what wonders Midgard might hold before he was discovered too far from home.

There was a place in the desert, a tavern of a kind. This strange little building that proclaimed itself 'Max's Bar and Grill'. Loki knew not what to make of such a place. He was greatly intrigued and ventured inside to learn more of what the Midgardians chose to do in their time of leisure.

Alcohol was served here, such as it was. In Asgard, wine and mead flowed freely, but its strength was nothing for those raised on its taste. It took much for inhibitions to be lost, for tongues to be loosened and the flesh to grow weak. On this little world that they called Earth, the matter was entirely different.

Men dressed in the strangest leather garb held court at one end of the room. More averagely dressed, scruffy looking people took up some of the tables and chairs. Loki was underwhelmed by the sight of them, by the oddly decorated room, by the din that emanated from the speakers behind the bar. To his ears, it was no more than screeches and wails. To the people here, it seemed to be an anthem, a stirring war cry and proclamation of devotion to someone or something they called Alabama. Loki shook his head and approached the bar.

"What'll it be?" asked the woman there.

"What would you recommend?" he asked with a disarming smile.

"Makes no odds to me, sugar," she told him, seemingly too lazy or stupid for any kind of conversation. "You wanna beer, or what?"

"Yes, a beer." Loki nodded in thanks, though the usual unimpressed sneer returned to his lips the moment her back was turned.

This place was filthy, unkempt, and all but falling down. Loki wondered at the pride then taken in such an establishment by those who seemed to have found a second home within its walls. Thor saw this world like a second home already, and Loki thought much the same of the whole planet as he did of this building, ridiculous tumble-down mess that it was. So far he had seen nothing worthy of praise, and this continued to be the case for at least an hour.

Sat at a table in the darkest corner, Loki was happy to hide his face and just observe. He felt not the heat of the day or any longer heard the din of so-called music in the bar. His mind was occupied with taking in every aspect of this human life that so intrigued his dear brother. The companionship of the males, the attractive shape of the females. One in particular of the women caught his eye at last. She was different to the rest, more of her skin covered by clothing, which made her strangely more alluring to Loki. Perhaps it was the challenge of it all. Those already half undressed and pawing all over their menfolk, it was too easy. Loki preferred a game, a challenge, and such the woman at the bar might yet prove to be.

From the angle at which he sat, Loki saw little of her face, but in profile at least she was pretty enough. Long flowing red hair cascaded down her back, her figure no less than fine. Even amongst those of Asgard, she would certainly not appear lacking in height or beauty. Perhaps she had not the strength of body or character that such beings as his own kind possessed, but Loki had a mind to test all the theories he had of Midgardians with this forlorn soul.

She drank much, his copper-haired beauty. There was a sadness that almost radiated from her very being, and Loki wondered at her even being in such a place. Certainly it was clear she belonged almost as much as he did himself, which was to say not at all. Though she was of Earth at least, she was not the kind to usually frequent such an establishment as this, to drink as copiously as she was tonight.

The girls behind the bar continued to bring tiny shots of alcohol that seemed inconsequential to Loki and yet their power must have been great indeed. The woman he watched grew tired, her voice slurring, her limbs appearing too heavy for her to lift. Twice she almost tipped entirely from her high seat, and the third time it happened she seemed incapable of saving herself. Loki made to rise and assist her, seeing an opportunity he should like to seize. It angered him to see another take his place.

One of the leather-clad imbeciles appeared beside the woman, an arm round her back to support her. At first she laughed and thanked him for his help, but in a moment the situation changed. She was frightened, and the one that held her grew impatient and angry. His friends urged him on, propositioning the woman in foul ways that clearly caused her to panic.

Loki had no fear in stepping from the shadows then and making his presence known. A common brawl was not his place at all, but he had powers these dull creatures could not conceive. When the gang of fools surrounded him and threatened his life with blades and bullets both, Loki only laughed and berated them for their primitive weapons. They never saw what hit them, never would fully comprehend how they were at once in the room and then gone from it within a second.

"Wow!" said the red-head at the bar. "I... How did you...?"

"Madam." He turned and nodded to her, taking up her hand in his and placing a kiss on the back. "You are quite uninjured, I trust?"

"I'm... Yeah, thanks," she replied dreamily. "I'm Mary-Kate." She giggled, pushing her hair back behind her ear.

"Mary-Kate. What a perfectly delightful name," Loki told her, as charming as ever anyone could be.

It took little to impress these Midgardian women, Loki learnt, though he suspected one might have to make a little more effort if the female to be approached had not imbibed quite so many of these 'shots' that seemed so popular with dear Mary-Kate.

She spoke of her own suffering too much for Loki's liking, and yet it was entertaining to flatter her, to watch her blush, to find as time went on that her body grew closer to his own, that her inhibitions disappeared almost completely.

"You have suffered much, my darling," he told her, though he cared little or nothing for the stresses of her 'terrible day', the man who had betrayed her, the employment she had lost. "You should be appreciated, your tears dried by one much more worthy to care for you than those you have known before," he said gently, his fingers at her cheek and in her hair.

They were so close their lips were practically touching already and Mary-Kate's eyes fell shut seemingly of their own accord.

"I must be crazy," she whispered. "I don't even know your name."

"It doesn't matter," he told her, claiming her mouth.

The sensation was strange but not unpleasant to Loki. The woman hesitated very little before giving herself over to him willingly and with a kind of abandon that even he hadn't quite expected. She mumbled incoherent words against his lips, her nails digging into his skin as she all but wrapped herself around his body. He heard something of a hotel that they should go to, that it was not far.

The journey from the bar was blurry at best. Loki never lost control, he knew better, and yet the thrill of this woman, this beautiful temptress that craved his touch so badly, it was oddly intoxicating. She wished to lie with him, to allow him anything he pleased if only he would stay at her side, continuing to elicit the moans from her throat that could only be sounds of longing and pleasure both. He took in little of the hotel room she brought him to, and knew only her skin under his hands, her body wrapped around his, for the pleasurable hours that followed.

Before the dawn broke on Midgard, Loki was gone. He had gained an understanding by then of what the Midgardians called the 'pleasures of the flesh'. It was a pleasant enough way to spend the night, but Loki remained unimpressed, at least that was what he would tell anyone who ever dared to ask.


	11. Special Mission (SteveNat)

**Title**: Special Mission  
**Rating**: PG/K+  
**Originally posted**: January 2018  
**Originally written for**: OzQueen, based on her prompt, for Chocolate Box 2018 on Dreamwidth & AO3  
**Characters/Pairings**: Steve/Nat  
**Notes**: none

It wasn't his usual kind of mission. Quite honestly, Steve thought he might've preferred that to facing the barrage of questions from the pharmacist, but somebody had to do it. No, that wasn't fair. Nobody had strong-armed into this. In fact, Nat had tried to convince him he didn't need to bother, but how could he not?

When he got back to the apartment, he went straight to the bedroom, tapping lightly on the door and waiting for the weak reply before entering.

"You're being a gentleman? Even now?" she asked, managing a half a smile.

"What can I say?" Steve shrugged. "It's the way I was raised."

Stepping closer to the bed, he crouched down to her level and poured the contents of the drug store bag onto the blankets where she could see. It was quite the array of pills and potions, lozenges and balms, not to mention more tissues, because apparently, she was going for the record when it came to their usage.

"Wow," said Nat hoarsely. "I'm the luckiest girl in the world."

"Not the kind of gifts I'd usually present to a lady, but in the circumstances," he said with a kind smile. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been worse," Nat told him, even as she shivered uncontrollably and her face glowed as if she were being heated from within. "Of course, I've also been a lot better. At least I can't give it to you, super soldier."

Steve might have actually blushed at that comment. Nat loved that she still had the ability to make that happen, especially now, when every other skill seemed to elude her. Having the flu was so much worse than she thought.

"You're still pretty hot," said Steve, his hand at her forehead.

"You say the sweetest things," she replied, coughing horribly the very next moment. "Ugh, I've actually gone through torture sessions that felt better than this."

"It'll be over soon," Steve promised, feeling her pain. "The things I've seen you live through, there's no way the flu is taking down Natasha Romanoff."

"Well, I've got the best nurse that money can't buy," she said, smiling even as her eyes started to close again. "I'll bet even Stark would be jealous."

Steve didn't answer that, just let his fingers run through her hair, pushing it back off her sticky forehead and hoping for her sake that sleep came to her. Nat needed rest, and he really needed her well again, and it wasn't just to fight the good fight, no matter how much she would probably think so.

Leaning forward, he planted a soft kiss on her hairline and then got up to leave the room. He had plans to raid the fridge and see what he could find to cook for dinner. Nat might not be able to eat much, but at least he could try. There wasn't much he wouldn't do for Natasha, and he was realising that fact more and more with each passing day.

"Steve?" she called weakly when he reached the door. "Thanks," she told him, eyes still closed when he turned back to look.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Sleep tight."


	12. Funny Valentine (BuckyNat)

**Title**: Funny Valentine  
**Rating**: PG/K+  
**Originally posted**: February 2018  
**Originally written for**: inalasahl, based on her prompt, for Chocolate Box 2018 on Dreamwidth & AO3  
**Characters/Pairings**: Bucky/Nat & Steve  
**Notes**: none

"In case you were wondering, you're not funny."

"Natasha? I just woke up, I don't-"

"I'm telling you, Rogers, I know you probably think you're amusing or cute or something, but you're really not, at all," she told him sharply.

Sitting up in bed, Steve put a hand to his forehead and tried to get his bearings. Clearly something had upset Black Widow, and that was never good, but for the life of him, he had no idea what it would be or how it could be his fault.

"Nat, whatever it is you think I've done to offend you, could you please just tell me what it is?"

No sooner had he asked the question than Bucky came rushing into the room, startling Steve completely. He was waving his arms around like a crazy windmill, even as Natasha started to explain herself in Steve's ear.

"Fine, I'll play along," she said, sounding pissed yet. "Today is Valentine's Day, and suddenly I seem to be the owner of a large heart-shaped box of chocolates, an over-sized teddy bear, and so many flowers I feel like I won the Kentucky Derby."

"And you think I sent those? As a joke?" asked Steve, grinning like a Cheshire Cat as he put it all together.

"Well, I'm hoping you didn't send them as a serious attempt at romance," said Natasha in his ear. "You're cute, soldier, but a little vanilla for my taste."

"I don't think I'm the soldier you're looking for, Nat," Steve told her, trying not to laugh, even as Bucky face-palmed, belatedly realising he had done so with his metal hand, and immediately regetting the action. "You wanna talk to the real culprit? Although, honestly, I don't think any of this was a joke to him."

Bucky looked defeated as Steve fought with the cell phone, clearly trying to remember the instructions given to him at least forty times by Stark. Eventually he had the phone on video chat and was aiming the forward facing camera at his friend.

"I'm gonna grab a shower, let you two love birds figure this out," said Steve, faking a punch at Bucky's shoulder as he ran out of the door.

"You?" said Nat, staring up at Bucky from the phone screen. "You seriously did all this?"

"Seriously, yeah," he told her, pushing his hair back off his face. "I know it's dumb, to you, anyway, I just... the first time I did this, this was how you showed a girl you liked her."

Nat bit her lip, and if she had the ability anymore, she probably would've blushed.

"You like me," she said, a statement not a question because she got it now. "Okay. So, flowers, candy, stuffed animal, I'm guessing the next thing is you showing up at my door in a tux to take me to dinner? I mean, that's how it was done back then, right?"

"Right," Bucky agreed, face breaking out in a grin now that he realised she was actually asking him to take her out. "So, uh, I should come pick you up at seven?"

"You definitely should," Natasha told him, smiling back at him. "Don't keep me waiting, Mr Barnes."

"A gentleman never keeps a lady waiting, Miss Romanoff," he told her, seriously. "Of course, I'm not always a gentleman," he reminded her.

"Oh, I'm counting on that," she told him, eyebrow raised, before she ended the call without another word.

Bucky could not stop grinning. He had never looked forward to a date so much in his entire life.


	13. In The Quiet Moments (BuckyNat)

**Title**: In the Quiet Moments  
**Rating**: PG-13/T  
**Originally posted**: March 2018  
**Originally written for**: Impala_Chick, based on her prompt, for HetSwap 2018 on Dreamwidth & AO3  
**Characters/Pairings**: Bucky/Nat  
**Notes**: none

"Well, I'm glad to see you smiling now," said Natasha, looking sideways at Bucky. "When we were driving down this morning, you looked like you were about to face a firing squad."

It was strange to think that their kind could still blush, but Bucky managed it, and Nat had a hard time not considering it the cutest thing ever. There were a million reasons for them to be enemies, very few for them to be friends, and yet.

"You said we were going to the beach," he reminded her. "I was picturing crowds, which is not exactly my idea of fun these days."

Nat smirked, jabbing a nearby stick into the fire that blazed before them in the sand. The sun was almost gone, but she wasn't cold. She had a feeling even without the fire she would be just fine actually.

"When you worked for SHIELD and you're friends with Tony Stark, you have access to all the best private bays and coves."

"Who can turn down a woman with connections?"

"Turn down?" Nat echoed, one eyebrow raised as she looked at him once more. "You make it sound like I asked you on a date."

"No, I didn't..." he started, looking away, hair falling down to hide his face.

Okay, so maybe ithat/i was actually the cutest thing ever.

"Hey, I'm not saying I wouldn't ask," she told him, her hand landing on his shoulder.

Bucky looked back at her and then at where the fingers were resting. His smile faded.

"So, it doesn't bother you?"

Nat followed his gaze to her hand laid there on his metal bicep. She really hadn't paid any mind to the fact she was gripping his non-real arm. Now her fingers traced the red star near his shoulder, a strangely nostalgic smile pulling at her lips.

"They took a piece out of each of us and made us monsters," she said thoughtfully. "Doesn't necessarily mean we have to stay that way, right?"

She looked up to meet his eyes, saw Bucky nod almost imperceptibly. They were both broken in their own ways, both used and abused by a regime they didn't choose to fight for. For him, home and comfort were long gone, and for her, they never really existed in the first place, perhaps until now.

It was so easy to lean in closer, to allow her lips to find his. The sunset, the fire, the fun day at the beach, an epic kiss would be like the climax of some cheesy romantic movie, which was probably why it never actually happened.

Over Bucky's shoulder, Nat saw them coming. Just a flash of light behind the rocks but she knew what it meant.

"Here we go again," she said, leaping to her feet, glad that Bucky took the hint and followed suit, "but don't think you're getting out of it that easy, soldier. I'm not done with you yet," she promised, before taking off at a run, right into the line of fire.

Bucky was barely a pace behind her. He couldn't imagine a better place to be.


	14. Unstoppable Forces (TonyNat)

**Title**: Unstoppable Forces and Immovable Objects  
**Rating**: PG-13/T  
**Originally posted**: March 2018  
**Originally written for**: Hecate, based on her prompt, for HetSwap 2018 on Dreamwidth & AO3  
**Characters/Pairings**: Tony/Nat  
**Notes**: Nat rescues Tony from the Siberian bunker (Captain America: Civil War)

It wasn't supposed to go down like this, but then Natasha had learnt a long time ago that things rarely went how they were supposed to, not even when you planned them well. Lately, there was less of a plan, more fire-fighting, just trying to keep everyone alive. Switching sides was her forte, she was used to it, but this time she might've gone a step too far.

This wouldn't make up for what she had done and she knew it, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to try. You stop trying, you stop surviving, and that just wasn't in Natasha's nature. Thankfully, it wasn't in his either.

"Tony?" she said, checking him over as best she could.

His eyes flickered open, gazing up into her own, and she saw that he was broken. It wasn't about the suit. Twisted metal could be repaired, rebuilt. She had seen it done before a hundred times and hoped to live to see it a hundred more. No, this was different. This was worse than when he returned from the void, battered and traumatised. Tony was truly broken down inside, heart and soul. The body would heal, but these kinds of wounds, the kind that came from having those you loved most turn on you, they scarred over, they often never truly healed.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice a croaking mess of its former self.

"Somebody had to pick your ass up and take you home," she told him, with just a hint of the smirk they often both wore so well. "Come on."

Putting in most of the effort on his behalf, Nat got Tony to his feet. The suit was potentially irreparable, plates hanging off, a large gouge across the chest that could only have been caused by one thing. It was only now she had him upright that she realised he hadn't been the only thing lying beaten and scarred on the concrete floor.

"Never thought I'd see the day," she said more to herself than to Tony.

His gaze swept over the shield lying off to the side and he took in a shaky breath.

"It doesn't belong to him," he said hoarsely. "It never did."

"Well, we both know that's not true," said Nat, moving to prop him against a wall before retrieving the shield from the ground. "Let's get out of here."

She put her shoulder back under his and walked him painfully to the jet. It was a long, laborious, limping journey in which neither of them spoke at all. After all, what could either one say after what had happened? Neither were the type to apologise and comfort couldn't be tolerated in a moment like this. They did what they always did, they just kept going.

When finally, they reached their destination, Nat set Tony down as gently as she could, propping the shield by the wall. She ensured both were secured and then headed to the cockpit. She had to check they could still make an exit before anything else happened. She would fly them out to a safe place and then tend to Tony's injuries, both physical and otherwise. He was a real mess, worse than she ever suspected. The blood and such she could handle, but that look in his eyes. She had never seen anything like it, not even in her own reflection in the mirror.

Swallowing hard, she went over the instruments, wondering at the single drop of water that splashed onto the glass of the nearest dial. Wiping the back of her hand across her face, Nat steeled herself against whatever came next. There was no time to allow herself even a moment's emotion, not now.

Concentrating on the matter at hand, she took them out of there, quick, stealthy. There were no better words to describe Black Widow, except perhaps for lethal. Strange then that it was the rest of her fractured team that had caused most of the damage. This was one fight she would have happily steered well clear of, her allegiance more divided than it had ever been. Maybe that had always been her problem. She thought she had solved it more recently. Apparently, the wheel of fate wasn't quite done spinning her around yet.

When the jet was landed, Nat went back to check on Tony again. Perhaps the most concerning thing was that he hadn't moved at all. Just because you put Tony Stark somewhere, even if you told him to stay put, he really wasn't much for the rules. His truly broken state was proven one more time by his complete lack of motion, the pain in his eyes as she crouched before him, it was enough to pierce the centre of even the hardest heart and soul. Of course, Nat always knew he was capable of it, long before.

"Tony..."

"Do you know what he did?"

The words came out faster and harder than bullets, those that Nat couldn't dodge or deflect. Though all her training had taught her so well to lie, to not feel, so much had been undone of late. Tony was one of the chief dismantling parties when it came to her former skills in hiding and shutting down. The slightest hint of emotion must have shown on her face because he knew the answer before she ever spoken.

"Tony," she began again. "I can't imagine what you're feeling. To lose family... it's not something I have the capacity to understand. It was removed a long time ago, outside of my memory," she said glancing away to conceal the only half-truth she was allowing herself today. "But I do know that blaming Barnes won't help you."

She had his full attention now, glowering and angry as it was. She didn't flinch. Nat almost never did.

"We come from the same place, him and I," she explained. "More or less, anyway. You know some of the worst things I've done but you're willing to stand at my side."

"You didn't kill my parents."

"I killed other people's parents," she reminded him, "and I knew what I was doing. Barnes was... programmed. He was used. He might as well be a piece of your tech with coordinates and instructions hard-wired in. He remembers, but he had no control."

"And that makes it okay?" Tony sneered, looking like he wanted to get up and walk away from her, but stuck to the spot by too many other factors right now, not least her eyes on his and her hand gripping his own. "It doesn't."

"It can't. Nothing can," Nat agreed, "but giving in to hate and anger, I've tried that. It doesn't work and... and it's not you."

She needed him to come back to her, through the pain and anguish that she could never fully appreciate. Sure, Nat had suffered trauma. The supposed loss of Fury almost broke her. Memories of the Red Room haunted her too often. Banner leaving, it burned. Still, she had Tony, if she could just bring him back from the brink. Only losing him completely would mean she had nothing, no hope, no way through.

Nat wasn't sure which part of what she said had got through the him, but something started to shift in his eyes, in his grip on her hand. It wasn't this easy, he wasn't over it yet, that would take a long time, but she was getting through. He saw through the dark fog of anger and pain that had enveloped him during his fight with Rogers and Barnes, more so after as he lay in pain and misery, alone. He wasn't alone anymore, that was all she needed him to see for now.

"Come on, we need to check you over," she said then, focusing on the practicalities now she was sure she hadn't completely lost him in some worse way.

"How long have you been waiting to get me out of my clothes, Widow?" he asked her, and somehow, he was Stark again, at least a close approximation.

"The truth?" she said, disentailing the safety belt and helping him to his feet. "Part of me has been pondering the idea since the first day we met," she admitted, wearing a smirk he ought to have been proud of.

"Sweetheart, you only ever had to ask," he told her, returning the look. "Seriously."

"Seriously? You couldn't have handled it back then," she told him, shaking her head. "And you definitely couldn't handle anything now," she said, wincing a little on his behalf as she started to removed his armour, realising quite how badly he really was hurt underneath. "But hey, wounds heal," she told herself as much as him.

"With a little help, sure," said Tony, his hand on her shoulder.

Whether it was to steady himself or to get her attention, Nat couldn't be sure, at least not until she met his eyes one more time. People like them, they had to have each other's back, had to learn to trust even when there were good reasons not to. They had been together from before the beginning, at least in terms of the Avengers, and they would be together yet. That was a vow, a promise, an absolute. The words were never spoken, but the look they shared said it all.


	15. Because (BuckyNat)

**Title**: Because  
**Rating**: PG/K+  
**Originally posted**: July 2018  
**Originally written for**: cassandrafisher & romanticalgirl, for Drabble Exchange 2018 on Dreamwidth & AO3  
**Characters/Pairings**: Bucky/Nat  
**Notes**: based on a plot I heard about from the comics

"Why would you want to help me?"

Nat meets Bucky's eyes for a second but can't hold his gaze. If only he knew.

"Because you're Steve's oldest friend. Because what you've done wasn't your fault," she tells him, smiling as she continues. "Maybe even because it helps me on this crazy path to redemption I seem to be on."

She turns to walk away then, because it's safer, but she's not lucky enough that he'll let that happen.

"What's the real reason?"

He was always too smart.

"Because," she begins, taking a deep breath and turning back, "I remember the real you even if you don't, James."

The use of his given name is deliberate, not the plan, but she can't help herself. She has to try, just once.

When he blinks at her, panic momentarily crossing his face, she knows it worked. His memory is unlocking, the gates have come down. He knows. A part of her wishes he didn't, another part is relieved he does. When suddenly he looks at her the way he used to, even with tears in his eyes, joy wins out.

They wrap their arms around each other and the world makes sense again.


	16. Save Me (TonyNat)

**Title**: Save Me, I'm Naked and I'm Far From Home  
**Rating**: PG-13/T  
**Originally posted**: January 2019  
**Originally written for**: Hecate, based on her prompt, for HetSwap 2019 on Dreamwidth & AO3  
**Characters/Pairings**: Tony/Nat  
**Notes**: based on the trailer for Avengers: Endgame; refers vaguely to Unstoppable Forces & Immovable Objects (#14 in this collection)

In the place between sleep and awake, they come to him, more and more often as the lines between reality and hysteria start to blur.

Different faces with different messages, some more welcome than others, but lately, more often, it's her.

"It's brighter than I imagined," she says, walking silently across the floor. "People talk about space and you think of dark, cold, empty. Even up here, there are bright spots."

A slight smile curves her lips, her gloved fingertips barely making contact with the inch-thick glass.

"Of course," she continues, "I guess it depends which side you're on."

Pulling himself up from the floor, he staggers a little then reaches her side. She doesn't comment on the state of him, even as he marvels at the very presence of her.

"Should've known you'd make the cut, Romanoff. Slice you open, 'survivor' runs right through the centre."

"Don't act like you're not in the club, Tony," she says without shifting focus from the view at all.

He wonders what she sees, if she sees at all. Isn't she just another figment of his unwinding mind? He's lost track, but prefers to believe she's come through for him one more time. She might switch sides here and there, but she's never really failed him yet. A shiver runs through him as he exhales.

"I'm only here because of you."

That gets her attention. She blinks at him in that way she has when she's surprised. It doesn't happen much but if anyone can achieve it...

"If you hadn't pulled me out of that Siberian bunker-"

"You'd have found another way," she finishes smoothly, never dropping a beat - as if she ever would. "You're stronger than you think."

She turns toward him, face so close he would swear he could feel her breathing, but his is the only mist against the glass, and he wonders how long that will last. His eyes fall shut a moment, head swimming, world fading. He keeps thinking that maybe this time it would be easier to let go, but she won't let him, she never does.

"People like us, we're not supposed to need anybody," she says, her words so clear, the feel of her hand against his cheek so real, in spite of the truth.

"C'mon, Widow," he replies, opening his eyes to the depths of her own, finding a smirk in the debris of his own pale face. "Wouldn't your life be just a little bit easier without me hanging around?"

"Easier?" she considers, one tear escaping and streaking down her cheek. "Maybe, but we're not built for easy, Stark. We're in the middle of the fight of our lives."

He slowly shakes his head. "Already feels a lot like the end came and went."

"It's never the end." She smiles more like she means it. "Not for us."

She leans in closer, just starting to go completely out of focus, but before their lips ever meet, Tony jolts awake again. It's always this way. He doesn't get the best part until he proves himself worthy, and he knows it.

The metal floor is hard and cold, the view from the window is much the same, cold and dark... but there are bright spots... and Tony Stark is a survivor.

Pulling himself up to his knees, he reaches for Iron Man's helmet. Shaking fingers prise at the wiring, as tired brain cells desperately work to fire again. He knows how to do this, knows how to make it work, knows how to fight back. Some of it has been in him all the time, and more still he knows he gleaned from her.

In his mind's eye, he sees her clearer than ever. She looks up to the distant galaxy and calls him home, and he's going to make it, for that reason, if no other. After all, somebody has to save the world. Since she's gone to the trouble of saving him, again, it seems only fair that he makes a little more effort to keep trying, to never stop.


	17. The Truth, If You Dare (SteveNat)

**Title**: The Truth, If You Dare  
**Rating**: PG/K+  
**Originally posted**: July 2018  
**Originally written for**: flipflopdiva, based on her prompt, for Drabble Exchange 2018 on Dreamwidth & AO3  
**Characters/Pairings**: Steve/Nat  
**Notes**: set during Captain America: Winter Soldier

Neither of them could sleep. Steve and Nat had started talking about things. First, their precarious position caught between SHIELD, HYDRA, and the Winter Soldier, then about everything else. It might have been 'Truth or Dare' except without the 'Dare,' or 'Never Have I Ever' except the drinks they were sharing had little or no affect.

"Your question."

"Hmm, what about you and the great Agent Peggy Carter? I mean, I've heard the stories. Everything from you barely knowing each other through to the two of you being practically married before the crash that put you on ice. What's the truth there?"

"Somewhere in between," said Steve, staring into his glass. "We never officially went out on a date. We would have if... well, it never happened. She did kiss me once."

"My kind of 1940s woman."

"She was amazing. She still is but... well, our time passed. She married a good guy, had a family, lived a full life. I guess I wasn't meant to be part of that."

Nat nodded in understanding then downed the last of her shot.

"Your turn."

"What about you, Natasha? I mean, I used to think you and Clint were... closer, but from what you said, clearly I was way off."

She smiled a wry smile.

"For the longest time, I thought I was either too much or not enough for any man to really want."

"And now?"

"Now? It'd take someone incredibly strong, amazingly understanding," she said, moving closer, picking his glass out of his hand, drinking down the dregs. "That kind of guy is very hard to find these days."

Their eyes met, a look passing between them that said it all. The truth was not the words spoken tonight, it was the hope they had found in each other's eyes.


End file.
